Anything For You
by Loud-Bass-Woman
Summary: Harry Potter is finally captured by the Dark Lord - but what does this entail for him? And why does Voldemort keep looking at him that way? And, what about Draco? Why is he...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: OK, this is another one of my kinda-twisted fan fics. I love twisted . . . yesss . . . I live for it . . . MWAHAHAHAHA! :::cough::: Anyways, I would really, really, REALLY, appreciate it if you reviewed! I love getting reviews! Ya hear? I LOVE GETTING REVIEWS!!! So, basically, please review.  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters mentioned belong to me. :::sigh::: I only 'borrow' them and make them do my dirty little deeds! And, you know that when I say 'dirty little deeds', I actually mean 'play a part in my stories', right?  
  
WARNINGS: OK, this is SLASH. Slash, meaning male-male relationships. Anyone who takes offence to that, click on the back button right now. I shall also warn you that this story has some pretty twisted pairings, so, if you have a weak stomach, click on the back button now. Otherwise, read on . . .  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~ Anything For You ~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry Potter was roughly thrown down onto the ground, stones scraping his knees, head banging against the ground.  
  
"Get up!" someone kicked him sharply in the side. "Go on, Oh-Great-Saviour- Of-The-World! Get up and face your master!" the person spat, kicking him again.  
  
Harry smothered a groan, and, digging his fingers into the dry patches of grass, lifted his head up . . .  
  
And his emerald-green eyes met demonic slits of red.  
  
"Voldemort," he whispered, before passing out.  
  
Voldemort tilted his head to take in the sight of the prone body of the black-haired youth on the ground in front of him in a lazy manner.  
  
"Wake him, Lucius," he said lazily, still observing Harry's body with interest.  
  
Lucius Malfoy nodded. He pointed his wand at the boy lying on the ground.  
  
"Enervate," he muttered.  
  
Harry opened his eyes, and was immediately seized by the arms by two Death Eaters. They pulled him off the ground roughly, so that he was facing Voldemort.  
  
"Harry Potter. What a pleasant surprise," Voldemort said softly.  
  
Harry blinked. His vision was beginning to flicker. He must have banged his head quite hard. For a second, Voldemort wasn't Voldemort anymore, but Tom Riddle. Harry felt startled for a moment, mentally noting that he and Tom Riddle looked quite similar. The same black hair . . . the same green eyes, even! Then . . . Tom Riddle was Voldemort again.  
  
"What brings you to this part of the land? //My// land? Oh wait, I forgot, you don't even know where you //are//, now, do you?" the Dark Lord asked.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes, but gingerly shook his head.  
  
"You are somewhere near the north coast of Scotland, I believe," Voldemort said. "Oh, don't worry dear boy. You can't be rescued by anyone - after all . . . no one even knows that this place exists," he said, and with a snap of his fingers, Harry, him, and the other Death Eaters were suddenly transported to some sort of lair . . . a dungeon.  
  
Harry was dropped to the ground again. He instantly jumped to his feet, about to turn around, when he was met with a crucifying punch to the stomach that left him winded.  
  
He fell onto the ground, coughing.  
  
"Very good Lucius. It seems that you can teach the boy a few lessons . . . a few //real// lessons about defence against the dark arts," the Dark Lord said, giving Lucius a fairly approving glance. Lucius bowed to the figure in front of him.  
  
"Anything for you, my Lord," he said in an oily voice.  
  
When Harry looked up, he saw that Lucius and the rest of the Death Eaters had formed a circle around him and Voldemort. In fact, there was only one figure robed in black, standing next to Voldemort . . . Harry couldn't see his face, since his hood was drawn. He briefly wondered if it was Wormtail. But no . . . it couldn't be, could it? Peter Pettigrew was killed by Lupin in Harry's sixth year.  
  
He shakily got up to his feet.  
  
"I bet you're wondering how you got here, aren't you, dear little Wonder Boy? The boy who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world?" Voldemort asked, addressing the Boy-Who-Lived in a slippery manner.  
  
"Don't call me that!" Harry spat.  
  
"Ooh, touché!" the Dark Lord said, eyes swiftly roaming the body of the seventeen-year old in front of him.  
  
Harry almost blanched. Did Voldemort just . . . why was he looking at him like that? Harry didn't notice the figure next to Voldemort shudder slightly. Neither, it seemed, did the Dark Lord.  
  
"You know, Harry . . . you look so much like your father," Voldemort said, eyes roaming the Boy-Who-Lived again. "Yess . . . just like your father. Same posture . . . same figure . . ." He met Harry's eyes with an evil grin. "Your school is not very well protected, is it? After all . . . you'd think Dumbledore would spot a Death Eater spy when he met him, wouldn't he?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened slightly at this. A spy at Hogwarts? //Another// one? There was one when he was in his fourth year, one when he was in his fifth year, another one in sixth year, and now . . . seventh year . . . the most successful spy. After all . . . he had managed to capture Harry, whoever he was. And that //was// quite an achievement, since Harry hardly ever allowed himself to be captured.  
  
"I bet you're wondering who my little spy was this time, aren't you, Harry?" Voldemort asked him.  
  
Harry allowed himself to nod slowly.  
  
Voldemort gave him a twisted smile.  
  
"You can show yourself now, Dragon," the Dark Lord said, turning to the figure next to him.  
  
The figure next to Voldemort almost seemed to shake in fear - or anticipation - in showing himself to Harry. One look at his master's face was all he needed. He took a step closer to Harry.  
  
The person slowly lifted his hood . . .  
  
And Harry stood face to face with his arch-nemesis Draco Malfoy.  
  
Voldemort smiled evilly. The fun was just beginning.  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow! WHAT a response! Twelve whole reviews for one chapter? Whoopeeee! Thank you for all the reviews. The constructive criticism was quite helpful. I will attempt not to describe the pain so much. But only if I can help it! Because of all your praise, I stayed up until some time late at night (that I can't be bothered to remember precisely), writing this. I hope that you like this chapter too! If you do, then, simply revieeeeeeeeeeeeeew!!!  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadly. All belong to JK Rowling, the lucky bugger.  
  
WARNINGS: SLASH SLASH SLASH SLASH-y goodness (or badness) in this chapter. And in the rest of the story. I shall also warn you that this story has some pretty twisted pairings, so, if you have a weak stomach, click on the back button now. Also, just to warn you (again) this chapter is //very// twisted . . . so, if you think you can hack it, read on . . .  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~ Anything For You ~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"What the . . .? You!" Harry hissed, lunging towards Draco.  
  
"Hold him back," the Dark Lord stated firmly.  
  
Three Death Eaters grabbed Harry by the robes and held him still.  
  
"I knew it! I just //knew// it! Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Slut, Death Eater SPY!" Harry yelled. "You fucking bastard! And we actually thought that you were on the Light side!" he spat at the fair-haired boy who was looking indifferent to the comments that were being thrown at him.  
  
Voldemort looked at Draco, eyes narrowing slightly.  
  
"Slytherin . . . slut?" he asked softly.  
  
Harry saw Malfoy swallow slightly as he looked at his master.  
  
"Master, I . . . you must understand that I . . . m-my father . . ." Malfoy's voice trailed off. Harry felt slightly pleased that Malfoy had nothing else to say.  
  
"Your father is a well respected Death Eater. He doesn't tell you to go and fuck half of Hogwarts." Voldemort said calmly, although his red eyes seemed to glow slightly brighter as he said this. Even though Harry wasn't that close to him, he could feel the anger radiating off Voldemort in waves.  
  
"Actually, it's not half of Hogwarts. Just everything on two legs." Harry put in boldly. Merlin knew why he was speaking up in the face of the most dreaded wizard . . . creature . . . thing . . . in the entire world. But Malfoy had betrayed them. He deserved a little pain, didn't he? Because for some reason, it made Voldemort angry to find out that his little spy was the whore of Hogwarts.  
  
"Is that so, my Dragon?" Voldemort asked Draco softly, never taking his eyes away from him.  
  
Despite his better pretensions, Draco nodded slowly.  
  
Voldemort's eyes narrowed even more.  
  
Malfoy tore his blue-grey eyes away from the Dark Lord's fiery red ones, and stared straight at Harry. Instead of a scowl, or even a sneer (which Harry was expecting), there seemed to be a sort of . . . pleading in his eyes. Asking for . . . forgiveness, maybe?  
  
Harry shook his head. He was being absurd. Malfoys were betraying bastards. They did not ask for forgiveness. Besides, Malfoy seemed perfectly happy being the great and all-powerful spy. He was probably the Dark Lord's right- hand man, now that Wormtail was dead.  
  
After a few moments, Malfoy turned his head to Voldemort again.  
  
"You know that you will be punished for this little . . . revelation, don't you, my Dragon?" the evil wizard asked him.  
  
Draco's eyes widened slightly. He quickly looked towards Harry, then back to Voldemort again.  
  
"No . . . no, you can't . . . no . . ." he whispered, shaking his head.  
  
"No?" Voldemort asked, slightly mocking surprise. "Are you telling me what I can and can't do?" he asked.  
  
Malfoy, eyes still wide, looked towards his father for help. The elder Malfoy just stared at him with a dangerous look in his eyes. He had defied the Dark Lord in some way. He would pay.  
  
Harry watched this little display in curiosity.  
  
"Harry, my dear boy, come closer, will you?" Voldemort said airily, waving a hand at the Death Eaters, who moved a struggling Harry a few steps towards the Dark Lord. He turned towards the dark-haired boy, eyes swiftly skimming his body, and he said, with a slightly twisted smile, "You're in for a real show tonight."  
  
Harry's eyes widened at what this might mean. He quickly glanced at Malfoy Jr, whose mouth was slightly open in shock, his eyes on Voldemort's back.  
  
"My faithful followers!" Voldemort cried, his voice echoing throughout the dungeon. "I shall put on a great show for you all tonight! My Dragon, young Malfoy to some of you, here, has done wrong and he will be punished!" the Dark Lord yelled, eyes flashing with an ill-concealed sort of excitement.  
  
This was met with cries from Death Eaters all over the dungeon.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Punish him!"  
  
"Give him what he deserves!"  
  
"Bash a foot through his skull!"  
  
Harry was surprised to see Malfoy Senior also yelling. His face, although still remaining cold and unfeeling, had a hint of excitement brought to it. Probably because it had something to do with his beloved Master, Harry thought spitefully.  
  
He looked at Malfoy Jr. He was looking openly shocked, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly. He seemed to have lost the ability to speak. Voldemort turned towards him, and Draco automatically took a step back.  
  
"No . . . no, please. I'll do anything . . . anything . . . just not when Potter's . . . not when Potter's . . . not in front of him, please," he begged quietly, fear shining in his wide eyes.  
  
Harry felt confused. What was Voldemort going to do to Draco that was so bad? Why was Draco embarrassed to have it done in front of Harry? Probably because he didn't want to show how he felt pain. Probably doesn't want me to see him crying like a baby, Harry thought cruelly, even though he knew what the Dark Lord was capable of.  
  
He deserves it . . . he deserves it . . . whatever is going to happen, he deserves it . . . Harry kept repeating to himself silently.  
  
But he couldn't tear his gaze away from the fair-haired Slytherin, who was staring at the Dark Lord in what could only be described as fear.  
  
Voldemort took a few steps towards Harry, so that he could feel the evil wizard's breath on his face. He smelled of rotten flesh and blood. And death, Harry unconsciously thought.  
  
Voldemort's hand flew out and grabbed Harry's chin gently. Harry could feel chills going down his spine. The look on the Dark Lord's face was . . . frightening. His fingers felt cold and clammy on Harry's hot skin.  
  
"My Harry . . ." the Dark Lord whispered, before capturing the startled seventeen-year-old boy's mouth with his own. He roughly thrust his tongue into the younger boy's mouth, exploring inside.  
  
Harry suddenly jolted out of his reverie, and pushed Voldemort away, looking at him in disgust. He now felt physically sick. So that's why the Dark Lord's eyes kept moving over his body. What a sick bastard.  
  
"You're sick," Harry managed to get out, the ability to speak coming back. Voldemort gave him a twisted smile.  
  
"I know," he said, and turned around, purposefully taking slow strides towards Malfoy, who was staring at Harry, paralysed with shock.  
  
Harry felt three pairs of arms lock around him, holding him back. Which was just as well because he thought that if that thing that they called 'Lord' so much as looked at him again, he would something very stupid indeed. Something that would probably get himself killed.  
  
"Now. The show begins." Voldemort said loudly.  
  
He suddenly grabbed Draco Malfoy by the hair, and rammed him against the wall. The Death Eaters around the dungeon all started cheering. Instead of starting to beat him, like Harry thought he would, the Dark Lord slammed his mouth against the fair-haired boy's open lips, and Harry could see him shoving his tongue down his throat, the same way he had done to Harry.  
  
Only this time, Voldemort went further than he did with Harry, and his hand grasped Malfoy's crotch. Harry could see Malfoy's eyes widening in fear and disgust.  
  
Harry clenched his eyes shut and turned his head away. He didn't want to see this.  
  
"Go on, Wonder Boy, watch this! You'll like it!" a Death Eater who was holding him cried, spinning his head back towards the sickening display that was happening in front of him.  
  
Voldemort was now greedily ripping all of Malfoy's robes off, leaving him clothed in nothing but black silk boxers.  
  
The other Death Eaters were still cheering. They seemed to get off on this . . . this . . . exhibit, which was just plain wrong.  
  
Harry watched as the Dark Lord literally ripped the pale boy's boxers off, his hands wandering all over the alabaster skin. Draco's eyes seeked out his father, begging him to do something to stop Voldemort. But all Lucius did was sneer at his only son. It was disgusting. How could someone let someone do such a thing to their own son?  
  
Voldemort's hands were still running all over Draco's skin, and his tongue soon joined them, licking at every piece of skin he could reach. Draco's eyes met Harry's from across the room. Harry saw that they were full of tears. Draco mouthed the words, 'forgive me'.  
  
Suddenly, his sharp scream pierced the air as Voldemort violently rammed into him.  
  
Harry clenched his eyes tightly to block out the view.  
  
All that he heard for the rest of the night were the cheers of the Death Eaters, and Draco's pain-filled screams as Lord Voldemort violated the young boy's body in the worst way possible . . .  
  
TBC 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Whoopeeee! A li'l Christmas something for you all! I am (finally) back, and back I am with the longest chapter so far and a PLOT! Yes, I finally got my head round the semi-plot to this story! I would like to thank you all so so soooooooooooooo much for all your wonderful reviews! The constructive criticism really helps, and I really am sorry that I couldn't update for MONTHS - I was busy with my mocks and everything. They are EVIL! I got a D for History. Oh well. :::::shrugs::::: It's just History. And half the class got a D too, so I'm safe! Anyhow, back to the story, it's not as twisted (I don't think) as the previous chapters, and there are actually tiny inklings towards a plot in this one! Oh yeah, and to Mogli the Witch - this story will have quite a few different (and somewhat twisted) pairings, but I don't think Harry/Lucius will be one of them. Sorry! But continue reading, anyway!  
  
Now I would like to introduce chapter 3!!! Please read, enjoy, and review/flame!!!  
  
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all the characters. :::::shakes head while muttering darkly about getting Draco Malfoy in bed and covered in strawberry syrup if she owned him:::::  
  
WARNINGS: SLASH. Slight squickiness. Angst. You know, the usual.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~ Anything For You ~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Eventually the screaming stopped. It must've been . . . three, four hours, maybe?  
  
Harry cautiously opened his eyes.  
  
What he saw next made him feel slightly nauseas. There was Draco Malfoy, Junior Death Eater, the spy for the Dark, the slut of Slytherin lying in a pool of his own blood, while the Dark Lord was standing a few feet away from him, calmly putting his robes back on.  
  
Harry anxiously peered at the pale boy lying on the cold stone ground (he had fixed his eyesight with a spell in 6th year). He still seemed to be breathing, albeit in quite a shallow way. Harry only just noticed how small and frail Draco seemed to be after something like this. Come to think of it, he looked quite frail even before the 'something like this' happened.  
  
Harry suddenly felt a sharp stab of guilt as he realised that it was because of //him// that Draco got . . . raped. If he hadn't called him a slut, then this wouldn't have happened. Harry squeezed his eyes shut tight again. There's another life I've destroyed, he thought gloomily.  
  
"Throw him in the dungeon," Voldemort said, nodding his head at Harry.  
  
Harry opened his eyes a few seconds later, in time to see Voldemort crouching over Draco, caressing his face with a twisted smile on his face.  
  
The Death Eaters holding Harry grunted their response, and roughly pulled him away from the dungeon that he was in, and started descending down some stairs.  
  
They went through a dark stone corridor.  
  
Right, left, left, right, right, right, left, right, left, left, right, left . . .  
  
It was too difficult to remember how many turns they made.  
  
Eventually they got to a small dark room, where the Death Eaters threw Harry.  
  
One of them shoved the black-haired boy against the wall, evidently not caring if he'd hurt him or not, and started chaining his hands to the wall.  
  
Harry tried to kick out, but the Death Eater just carried on chaining him to the wall, as another one punched Harry in the stomach, making him keel over, coughing.  
  
The two Death Eaters walked out of the room without a backward glance, closing the door, and most probably locking it. Room? It was more like a //cell//! Only without the bars.  
  
Harry clenched his eyes again.  
  
What the fuck was he going to //do//?  
  
He was trapped God-knows-where, Draco Malfoy had just gotten //raped// because of him, none of his friends probably even //knew// he was missing, and here's the really big corker to top it all off; Voldemort probably had some sick fantasy about //fucking// him to death!  
  
Harry let out a frustrated snarl and opened his eyes, rattling his chains for all he was worth . . . but to no avail. There were no windows in his cell, and the only light was the one coming out of the barred window-type thing near the top of the door.  
  
The Boy Who Lived briefly considered shouting for help, but he doubted that any Death Eaters would come running to his rescue at his own beck and call.  
  
Maybe there were more prisoners somewhere around here . . . well, if there were, they were probably chained up too, Harry thought dully.  
  
There was no possible way of getting out of this cell.  
  
Well, that is unless Harry suddenly acquired either his wand, or incredibly strong wandless-magic powers and removed his chains, and then the door, and found a map of this entire building-type thing, which just //happened// to be lying around, and which showed the movements of every single Death Eater there was in this place, and he just 'borrowed' a broom that was oh-so- conveniently placed right outside the door, and he used his wandless magic to blast a hole in the wall, and flew away back home to Hogwarts, but not before killing Voldemort and dropping all the other Death Eaters off to Azkaban, and Draco Malfoy //possibly// to St Mungo's to recover from being raped, of course . . .  
  
But none of those things were going to happen. Not in the next hundred years, anyway.  
  
So Harry chose to wait.  
  
He waited for about half an hour, when the door opened again.  
  
And in was thrown a tired-looking Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Malfoy!" Harry said, more out of not having anything to say, than anything else.  
  
Two Death Eaters, as with Harry, chained Malfoy's hands to the wall. He merely looked bored.  
  
One of the Death Eaters started caressing his pale face for a bit, and said in a raspy voice, "You're a very pretty boy, Malfoy."  
  
"Wouldn't want our Master to catch you touching what he touched first!" Malfoy spat.  
  
The Death Eater quickly stopped touching Malfoy's face, and took his hand away so quickly it was as if he had been burned. He glared at Malfoy, before following his companion out of the door, and locking it.  
  
"Malfoy." Harry said again.  
  
Malfoy looked at the ground, seemingly unable to meet Harry's eyes.  
  
"Malfoy," Harry said, in a softer tone.  
  
Malfoy still didn't look up.  
  
"Draco, look at me," Harry tried.  
  
Malfoy tensed a bit, then brought his head up and turned it towards Harry.  
  
"Y-yes?" he said.  
  
"Malfoy, look, I'm sorry. I am //so// sorry, I-I didn't know . . . I didn't know that he would-" Harry started apologising.  
  
"Don't worry 'bout it," Draco said, looking slightly ashamed.  
  
"Draco, are you . . . are you alright?" Harry asked.  
  
Draco gave him a look.  
  
"Right. Stupid question. Sorry." There was a pause. "I am //so//, so, sorry, Draco, I didn't-"  
  
Draco shook his head darkly.  
  
"Don't worry about me, Potter. It's not the first time it's happened to me. Nor the second. Or third . . ." he paused, frowning.  
  
"Not the first time?" Harry's gaze was incredulous.  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
"Anyway, if anybody needs to apologise . . . it's me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I brought you here, but I had no choice, I'm serious, it was either bring you here, or . . ." Draco stopped talking.  
  
"Or what?" Harry asked.  
  
"Never mind," Draco shook his head.  
  
"Can I ask you a question?" Harry asked tentatively.  
  
"You just did," came Draco's dead-pan reply.  
  
"Right. Well, I . . . your dad, why doesn't he-?" Harry started, but Draco cut him off.  
  
"He doesn't care. Not surprising, really, considering what a great son I'm turning out to be." the blonde said.  
  
"But . . . but . . . h-he's your father, how can he . . .?" Harry's voice trailed off.  
  
Draco snorted softly.  
  
"Malfoys don't care about anyone but themselves. The bastard was probably wishing it were him in my place," he said.  
  
Harry's eyes widened slightly.  
  
"Y-you mean he . . . your father actually l-l-likes V-?" he seemed unable to go on.  
  
Draco shrugged his shoulders in a non-committed manner.  
  
"He's obsessed with him. He'd do anything for him. He moans his name at night when he's asleep. I'm pretty sure that he 'likes' him," the pale boy replied.  
  
"What . . . what are they going to do to you?" Harry asked softly.  
  
"What, you mean after this?" Draco asked, rattling his chains a bit.  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Draco sighed.  
  
"They'll probably have me in for a bit of good old torture - the muggle way, of course. It's always the muggle way . . ." he paused, looking thoughtful. "Knifes, daggers, broken glass . . . you name it, they've got it," he said, shaking his head.  
  
"Draco . . ." Harry said, an expression of pain for the boy.  
  
"Oh, don't worry. I'll be fine. I've survived it before, so why should this time be any different?" the fair-haired boy said lightly, although his eyes looked dead as he spoke.  
  
"Draco . . . I . . . I don't know if I can apologise enough. It's . . . it's //all// my fault, I shouldn't have-" Harry started, but Draco cut across him.  
  
"Oh, get over yourself, Harry. Not //everything// in this world is //your// fault. You flatter yourself too much," he said, giving him the trademark Malfoy smirk, despite the morbidness of the situation.  
  
"When was the first time . . . that it . . . that it happened?" Harry asked gently.  
  
Draco shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
"Not sure. Probably summer after fifth year, I think," he ignored Harry's wide eyes. "That's when I became a Death Eaters, anyway. Youngest one in a century," Draco snorted. "Fat lot of good that did me. I mean, sure, I became a 'spy', but . . . it's not all it's made out to be you, know?"  
  
Harry was just nodding wordlessly.  
  
"Well, actually, you //don't// know, since you've never exactly been a spy for him, have you, well, anyway, that's probably enough about that subject since you've been captured and-"  
  
"The summer after fifth year?" Harry asked, seemingly having not heard anything Draco said after that sentence.  
  
Draco shrugged.  
  
"Come on, Harry. I was fifteen. Anyway, it's not like it was my first time either. That was all the way back in second year," the blonde said. "What about you? When was your first time?"  
  
"M-m-me?" Harry asked, briefly thinking how Draco could have had sex at such a young age, and also wondering when they had slipped into using each other's first names.  
  
"Yeah, you. D'you anyone else round here?" Draco smirked.  
  
Harry blushed slightly.  
  
"Don't tell me you're still a virgin!" Draco grinned evilly.  
  
"No, no, it's just that . . . well, my first time was . . . summer before seventh year." Harry said, briefly acknowledging how funny it was that he and Draco would probably be tortured in a few hours, and here they were, chatting about sex like old buddies. When they had hated each other just a few hours ago. Well, Harry hated //him//, more specifically.  
  
"Come on, spill, Harry. Who was it with?" the blonde asked.  
  
Harry squirmed slightly.  
  
"You first," he said.  
  
"Alright. Mine was with Damian. He's my fourth cousin three times removed by marriage, or something or other. Damn, he was sex on legs, with his dark blonde hair and blue eyes . . . I never regretted it, even though I was twelve and he was eighteen. So, Harry . . . who was your first time with?" Draco pressed on.  
  
"It was, with, um . . . Ron," the Boy Who Lived said, looking embarrassed.  
  
Draco's eyes widened.  
  
"No way! You and Weasley? I always thought that you were 'more than just friends'!" he exclaimed with glee.  
  
"It wasn't exactly like that. It's just . . . I was a virgin, and we were both curious about what it would be like with a boy, so . . . I guess you can say that the rest is history," Harry said.  
  
"Damn. That's . . . well, I dunno what that is, but . . . not exactly the person I expected you to shag, Harry."  
  
"Who d'you have expected me to shag then, Draco?"  
  
"Well, if you want the honest truth . . ." Draco's voice was somewhat husky, and he leant in closer to Harry, so close that their noses were almost touching . . .  
  
"Me." Draco whispered, and his lips met Harry's.  
  
TBC. 


End file.
